"Whereas recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and
inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the
foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world."

Thus begins the text of the United
Nations' Declaration of Human Rights, a declaration which, with
its definition of the concept of peace, forms the basis of the Norwegian
Nobel Committee's decision to award this year's Peace Prize to the
Polish trade union leader, Lech Walesa.

The campaign for human rights is, necessarily, an inseparable
part of the struggle for peace. The selection of a Peace Prize
winner on these grounds is not new: laureates such as the South
African Albert Lutuli, Martin Luther King from
the U.S.A., Andrei
Sakharov from the U.S.S.R., and the Argentinian Adolfo Pérez Esquivel received,
their awards on just these grounds. The Committee believes that
this year's prize winner can justly take his place among this
gathering of campaigners for human rights.

Consideration of the question of human rights raises the well
known problem: "Why does humanity advance so slowly?" It has,
however, become more generally recognised that a peace which is
won and defended through the violation of human rights, is a
peace which neither can nor ought to be permanent.

The present generation has perhaps learned this in a way no
previous generation experienced. Military occupation and foreign
domination, together with the associated evils of physical and
mental terror, have led more and more people to understand the
great truth - that "freedom and life are one". Peace is created
where people live and breathe in freedom, and where one does as
one would be done by.

We can assume that such thoughts lie behind the United Nations'
Declaration of Human Rights - which the world community has
adopted as the basis for peaceful coexistence between peoples and
nations. For the Norwegian Nobel Committee it was a natural
development to consider the Peace Prize in the light of this
declaration. Through the presentation of this year's award the
Committee once again draws the attention of the world community
to its own definition of the concept of peace.

It follows from this that the Committee's deliberations and
decisions are necessarily independent of national and political
boundaries. The guidelines given to the Committee in Alfred
Nobel's will stipulate that the presentation of the Peace Prize
is the responsibility of the Committee alone, and cannot be
influenced by outside forces. Thus the Nobel Peace Prize can
never be more - or less - than a hand stretched out to
individuals or groups who give expression to the longing for
peace and freedom felt by all the peoples of the world, wherever
they live. We believe that it is in the spirit of Alfred Nobel's
legacy that the Peace Prize should be a gesture of solidarity
with those who, in the service of peace, campaign for humanity's
highest ideals.

Human dignity is an important concept in this connection. The
phrase has two central connotations: firstly, that the dignity of
humanity is inviolable, and, secondly, that each and every human
being has the same, everlasting value. A natural corollary of
this is that we all have a common duty to defend human dignity.
All thoughts of solidarity - even the command to love one another
- have their foundation here. Human dignity is humanity's shared
possession, a possession which we all have both a part in and a
responsibility for. We are bound together in a common lot which
makes it impossible for us to be unaffected by the fate of
others.

Another Nobel Prize winner, Ernest Hemingway,
opens one of his novels with a famous quotation from the English
poet John Donne which illustrates this point with an almost
shocking clarity:

"No man is an island, intire of its self; every man is a piece of
the Continent, a part of the maine; if a clod bee washed away by
the sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were;
as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any
mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And
therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls
for thee."

This is the way in which we ought to experience humanity's
oneness. "Any man's death diminishes me." Every brother being in
chains is my shame. Every longing for freedom which is
suppressed, every human right which is violated is a personal
defeat for me - because we are united in human kind and share one
another's fate.

Up from this ideal of human oneness this year's prize winner has
raised a burning torch, a shining name, the name of Solidarity.
He has lifted the torch unarmed; the word, the spirit and the
thought of freedom and human rights were his weapons. And, as is
so often the case, the struggle involved great personal
sacrifice, even though the object was something as simple as the
workers' right to establish their own organisations. This is a
right which, again, is confirmed in the world community's
declaration of human rights.

The Norwegian Nobel Committee has evaluated Lech Walesa's
contribution in this field as being of essential importance in
the campaign to establish the universal freedom of organisation
in all countries. It is in just this context that the name
"Solidarity" has its deepest and most wide- ranging meaning. Lech
Walesa's contribution is more than a domestic Polish concern; the
solidarity for which he is spokesman is an expression of
precisely the concept of being at one with humanity; therefore he
belongs to us all. The world has heard his voice and understood
his message; the Nobel Peace Prize is merely a confirmation of
this.

Lech Walesa has made the name "Solidarity" more than an
expression of the unity of a group campaigning for special
interests. Solidarity has come to represent the determination to
resolve conflicts and obliterate disagreement through peaceful
negotiation, where all involved meet with a mutual respect for
one another's integrity.

Conflicts and disagreements can be various, and can lead to many
different reactions. Those involved will inevitably be faced with
complicated decisions. This was the situation one August day in
1980, when Lech Walesa climbed over the steel fence of the Lenin
yards in Gdansk, took the microphone and at a stroke became the
leader of Polish solidarity. He was faced with overwhelming
difficulties; the choice of strategy was not easy. The goal was
clear enough: the workers' right to organise and the right to
negotiate with the country's officials on the workers' social and
economic situation. But which of the many available paths would
lead him to this goal?

This is not the occasion to evaluate the political situation Lech
Walesa found himself in. Suffice it to say that it was difficult.
More interesting to us now is the fact that Walesa's chosen
strategy was that of peace and negotiation. And, as always in
such situations, the willingness to negotiate implied the
willingness to compromise - here because it was obvious that the
opponent was also fighting adverse conditions, both economic and
political. Solidarity came to represent, as a result of a
mobilisation of the national will - the so called "Polish social
opposition", the possibility of a solidarity of opinion in the
whole nation. This was not an opposition which involved the use
of physical power. Rather, it was a question of a spiritual or
intellectual power which, because of its universal acceptance in
the populace, would permeate the system and dissolve conflicts
from within.

By following this peaceful course, without resorting to violence,
Solidarity became a rapidly expanding movement. The courage which
Lech Walesa showed in stepping forward openly and unarmed was
overwhelmingly rewarded by the millions of Polish workers and
farmers who joined him in his struggle.

Thus, in awarding the Peace Prize to Lech Walesa today, the
Committee wishes it not only to be seen as a token of respect,
but also as an expression of gratitude for the peaceful courage
he showed when choosing his course.

That Walesa and the movement he leads are in keeping with the
highest of human ideals is confirmed not least by the close
connections which have existed between Solidarity and the Polish
church. This interdependence is based not on common political
interests, but rather on an ideological unity in the perception
of human value and human rights.

It has not escaped the Committee's notice that the Polish church,
which is a popular church in a way that few European churches
are, has been so consistent in its support of Lech Walesa; this
has given Solidarity an invaluable moral strength. One has great
expectations of the role the church can come to play in Polish
society given its standing among the people.

As outsiders we are particularly aware of the way in which
Solidarity - also through its attachment to the church - has
shown its willingness for peace and reconciliation. We have seen
them gather in their tens of thousands in and around the churches
in prayer for their land and cause. We have seen them water with
their tears the wreaths of the victims of the fight for freedom.
And we have understood that their unarmed battle is a battle they
fight not only for their own sake, but also for all
liberty-loving people the world over.

It is in this perspective that the Norwegian Nobel Committee has
seen Lech Walesa's contribution. The way he chose was the way of
negotiation, peace and reconciliation.

In the world we live in it is shockingly clear that détente
and the peaceful resolution of conflicts is more necessary than
ever before. We have seen too much of what the brutal use of
power can lead to. If history has taught us anything, it is that
the use of violence and power can, in the long run, only mobilise
the powers of death.

Unfortunately, we have also learned that the voice of history
does not always tell of victory for humanity and peace. It is
pertinent to ask whether idealistic and morally sound attitudes
do, in fact, have any chance of success.

This question can, of course, also be raised in the case of Lech
Walesa. True enough, it would be strange if the causes he
represents did not succeed, if only in the long run. He was not a
political trouble maker: his concerns were rather the Polish
workers' interests and current demands. But such demands are not
always successful, even when they are as justified as they are in
Lech Walesa's case.

No, Lech Walesa raised no revolutionary banner, and espoused no
other weapon than the peaceful strike weapon which is recognised
by the world community. Neither did he claim support from the declarations
of human rights emanating from the United Nations and the Helsinki
agreement. He wished only to negotiate. Two things alone were of
pressing interest: the workers' social conditions and their right
to negotiate.

The background to this singlemindedness was the simple fact that
these rights were not recognised. This had led to outbreaks of
universal bitterness on several occasions previously - in 1956,
in 1970, and so again in 1980. All of these outbreaks were
concerned with precisely these problems: social conditions,
freedom of expression and the right to organise.

One can reasonably wonder why it should be so difficult to
achieve recognition for such aims. Those who know but a little of
the history of the international labour movement will be aware
that such difficulties have always been present. It is still
remarkable, however, that working people's elementary rights can
be denied, irrespective of to which ideology or economic system
the respective countries belong. One ought, perhaps, to be able
to believe that there are boundaries behind which it is not
necessary to campaign for workers' rights; such boundaries
obviously don't exist.

It is clear that, although Lech Walesa primarily campaigned for
elementary social rights without challenging the established
power structure, his campaign had inevitable political and
ideological overtones. His campaign has also been necessarily a
campaign for human rights, and, as such, inevitably interpreted
as an obstruction against the system by the political
authorities.

As the political opposition to Solidarity grew, its own
consciousness of standing for humanity and human rights became
clearer. It became increasingly obvious that Lech Walesa's
campaign for workers' rights was from the very beginning a
contribution to the general campaign for human rights in the
world. This connection was emphasised more and more - especially
by intellectual groups within the movement, and also by the
Polish church.

Campaigners for human rights, independent of where in the world
they have lived and worked, have always had one common problem:
How can the idealistic goal be realised when one is obliged, at
the same time, to take into account the practical possibilities
in the given situation. Is it wise to moderate demands and
campaign for a step-by-step improvement?

This problem faced Lech Walesa. Was a cautious course - with the
possibility of gaining some ground - the right one? Or should one
risk - and stand to loose - everything? It is impossible to
understand the Polish Solidarity movement without being aware of
this problem.

A realistic evaluation of the existing situation would suggest
that the best course was to aim for a combination of the existing
one party government with a social pluralism which permitted the
freedom to organise and negotiate - at any rate in the future.
Such a solution was the first negotiating model.

We know now that even this moderate strategy failed. Solidarity
is today a forbidden organisation. The negotiations and the
strikes which were designed to emphasise the seriousness of the
negotiations led to the state of emergency and the arrest and
imprisonment of Lech Walesa.

And, even though the state of emergency is rescinded and Walesa
is freed, his freedom is limited. His own evaluation of the
situation has not permitted him to be present here today. The
Peace Prize laureate's seat is empty; it won't be his voice we
hear. Let us therefore try even harder to listen to the silent
speech from his empty place.

At the present time, Lech Walesa cannot be presented as a victor
at the end of a struggle full of sacrifice. His chosen course was
not as short and easy as that. And it could seem that the goals
he set himself are just as distant still.

But is Lech Walesa really silent today? Is he completely without
victory? Has his cause suffered defeat? Many are of the opinion
that his voice has never been stronger and reached further than
it does now. The electrician from Gdansk, the carpenter's son
from the Vistula valley has managed to lift the banner of freedom
and humanity so high that the whole world can once again see it.
The power of his belief and vision is unweakened. His actions
have become a chapter in the history of international labour, and
the future will recognise his name among those who contributed to
humanity's legacy of freedom. Once again the stone rejected by
the builder has become a cornerstone; this time a cornerstone in
the building of freedom and democracy which humanity, with
varying degrees of success, is attempting to raise in our
world.

It is in any case certain that Lech Walesa's efforts have an
important message for our times. It is the Committee's opinion
that he stands as an inspiration and a shining example to all
those who, under different conditions, fight for freedom and
humanity.

If, in a future which we hope is not too distant, there should
again be attempted a compromise between the Polish authorities
and the country's workers and farmers, Lech Walesa's
participation will be both necessary and indispensable.

For he is a victor in the eyes of the ordinary worker or farm
labourer; he is a victor in the eyes of the people and their
church. And he is one of the great spokesmen in the world today
for the longing for freedom that can never be silenced.

Lech Walesa has made humanity bigger and more inviolable. His
ambivalent good fortune is that he has won a victory which is not
of this, our political, world. The presentation of the Peace
Prize to him today is a homage to the power of victory which
abides in one person's belief, in his vision and in his courage
to follow his call.